Snatching defeat from the jaws of victory

My teacher's favorite saying in 11th grade. Also in 12th. Mrs. Flaxman. She taught any variation of English requirements that my school implemented. I enjoyed her wit, and her gusto for discussion after finishing a novel. My favorite part of class would happen when this line was brought out: snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. That always made me laugh...or grimace...or wake up from the delightful dream that was waiting outside of the classroom, which was any random young sir that my hormones had selected as "the one." I had about 32 "the one's" throughout my high school stint. Though I doubt any of them even knew it. I liked girls when I went to North Warren. Yes. Mmhmm.Yup. But I daydreamed about chaps. Jesus, high school can really fucking blow turds all over your little heart.

So, snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. I loved this saying so much because all of the times I had snatched that steamer from sure majestic wins-ville. It wasn't that I was constantly defeated. Or even that I marked most of my time as a poor decision that led to such evils as detention, extended detention, Saturday detention, or private talks with Señor Rod Rufe (whom I just discovered made $97,648  a year. What?!). I just remember high school being one long, hormonal bomb that devastated and terrified and thrilled me for four longish, short years.

So the saying. Many things will come up in the next 4 months that will tempt me with sweet defeat. Like delicious coconut brownies:

 Or that damn fucking delicious glutenous bread!

   














Or even just seeing my beautiful bed on a particularly shitty day. You know, one with bad weather and the freak storms and the chance of meteors crashing down on us. And I won't have these heroes to come and save me:

At least some of them are attractive. Partial win?

I don't even know what the fuck I am writing about. There! Defeat! Snatched! shit...